


Closed My Door to Dreams

by monchy



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:17:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monchy/pseuds/monchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A werewolf makes ex-hunter turned cop Adam Lambert go back to a life he doesn't want. When Kris Allen, a shadow from his past shows up, he re-evaluates everything he knows.</p><p>Supernatural!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adam

“So, what do you think?”

Adam looked at his partner for a second, keeping his eyes away from the scene before him for a bit longer. There was nothing much to look at, really, because whoever had done this must have been one morbid fucker, if the state of the body was any indication. He took a deep breath, put his hands inside his jacket’s pockets where they curled, forming fists. Then, he looked back at the body. There was too much blood around, mostly dry and on the walls, and Adam had to suppress not only a shudder, but also the sudden rage forming somewhere low in his stomach.

His partner, Anoop, pressed a hand to his elbow, squeezed a little even, and motioned towards the back of the alley where a couple of officers were trying to shoo back the cats that had followed the smell of dead flesh. Adam grimaced. He half closed his eyes, his shoes scratching the ground when he took a step forward. Still too much blood. The woman’s body was barely recognizable, and Adam had to look back again.

The press was there already, too, all of them bugging the cops for just one ounce of information while they held their cameras, ready to get just a nice picture of the massacre before them. Sometimes Adam had a hard time dealing with this part of human behavior.

When Anoop looked at him, too smart eyes boring into his own with that intense stare that Adam had learned to recognize as impatience, he coughed, shrugging then a little. There was nothing much to think about this business right now. They needed autopsies, reports, interviews, and whatnot. Sometimes he really missed the old job, where it was just Brad and him jumping every stupid protocol and solving cases in a week, tops. But that had been different. That had been… another life, one that he didn’t care for anymore.

Adam didn’t regret his choices, he had never been the kind to dwell too much on the past, but he had grown up in a certain way, and sometimes it was hard to forget. When Brad had died and he had started being best friends with a bottle of whisky, when not even Kris and his wonderful, adorable eyes had been enough to shake him out of his depression, he had decided that it was time to leave it all behind. He had taken his car, his weapons and his past, and had forged himself a new life. A few false records, a couple of contacts here and there, and he had ended up a cop in a not too small but certainly not big anonymous town. Now, four years later, as a detective, things were slightly different, if death was still a big part of his life.

He stood straighter, and looked back at his shiny Mustang parked across the street. It was time to go home, maybe to get drunk and sleep this off until he could chew on it tomorrow.

“Nothing much to do here anymore, huh?” said Anoop next to him, making Adam’s eyes focus on him once again. He was one of the few people Adam had met that was good at deciphering his silences.

Anoop was a tall but skinny guy, and his intellectual (almost bordering on geeky) appearance made him easy to approach, so much that he almost always ended up playing the role of the good cop. Adam had never pictured himself playing the bad cop, but the girls in the office insisted that when he didn’t do the eyeliner thing and scrunched his face just so, he totally pulled of the menacing badass thing.

He shrugged again. “Yeah, I think I’m heading home. Want a ride?”

“Sure, yes.”

“But no whining about the music,” Adam warned, one finger pointing at Anoop even as they started walking towards the car.

Anoop groaned behind him, hiding his hands inside his jacket’s pockets. “Not another David Bowie lesson, _please_.”

“Look at you, honey, disregarding my teachings on the glorious genre of glam rock.”

Anoop groaned yet again, and Adam let himself smile just a little. Anoop was the only one who got to whine about his music, and Adam wondered about that as they walked towards car, feet heavy on the ground. Adam was glad that they had learned to adapt to each other, even after their initial friction. Despite his depression and mood changes, Adam was still an unrepentant queen with a flair for the dramatic, and Anoop was a prep kid who hadn’t seemed to be ready to deal with that. A couple of snappy words and some shared secrets over a bottle of whisky, though, had given them some sort of middle ground, and it seemed that they had grown attached to each other. In the end, there was a lot more to both of them that just their appearances.

They drove through the dark streets, cars whooshing past them faster than they should, and the city lights casting shadows inside the car. It had been a long while since no one other than Anoop or Tommy had sat shotgun in the car. Adam set his lips into a thin line, not thinking of Brad, lost to the darkness, or of Kris, wherever he was.

“Everything all right, man?” Anoop had a soft, rumbling voice that filled the car with ease, and it startled Adam out of his thoughts.

Adam looked at him for a brief moment, turning then his eyes back to the road. Once again, he shrugged.

“You look thoughtful, is all,” murmured Anoop, not insisting more on the subject. Anoop had always been good at knowing when to push a subject, and when to shut his trap.

Adam quirked his lips to the side in an almost smirk, and saw a mirroring expression in Anoop’s mouth through the corner of his eyes. It occurred to him how little he truly knew of the man, how little the man knew about him. It was better like this, probably, keeping it strictly business. Then again, Adam did like him, and he knew Anoop worried about him in a way that only his family had done before. Adam knew he had to be grateful for that, and he was.

Fifteen minutes after the first screech of the wheels against the asphalt, Adam stopped the car in front of a big building, its red bricks shining even in the pale light of the moonlight. Anoop nodded his thanks, stopping before opening the car door to look at Adam one more time.

“Megan and Matt said to bring you home for dinner some day, so you tell me when.”

Adam smiled at him, genuine this time. Megan was Anoop’s girlfriend, a sweet, crazy woman who adored Adam and never got tired of telling him just how handsome and thin he was, proceeding then to feed him in the same fashion she fed her own son. Adam loved her in a way that he had never loved any woman before.

And then there was Matt, the official roommate who everyone knew was nothing but the third one in the weird Anoop/Megan/Matt relationship. He was cute and loud, and he made Adam laugh which, given the way life had treated him, was something he truly needed.

“Sure thing, ‘Noop.”

“Have a good night, Adam. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

***

Adam yawned all the way to the forensics department, cursing the fact that his body seemed to assimilate caffeine so easily. The three cups of black coffee he had had this morning should have kicked in already, but the effect had been lost somewhere without Adam noticing. It pretty much sucked. Maybe clubbing last night hadn’t been such a great idea, but then again, he couldn’t be held responsible for what he did when Tommy pouted.

He shrugged a little when Anoop eyed him curiously, but then they were both crossing the huge metallic doors that protected the place, and Adam was shivering involuntarily. Even after all these years, he still found morgues to be creepy, chilly places. Their steps echoed against the pristine white walls as they walked towards the doctor, who had the body out already. Even before they stopped walking, Adam’s eyes were already eying the purplish flesh of the woman, her shrunk features, small breasts and long legs, along with the now sewed cuts that covered almost all of her body. Adam had the fleeting thought that she had been an attractive woman.

Anna Browne, white Caucasian female, twenty-two years old, single, working as a secretary for some important lawyer firm, described as nice and shy by her friends and co-workers. Adam had read her file, but as always, there was nothing much in there to tell him who Anna had been, or who might have wanted to do this to her.

When the doctor started rambling, Adam didn’t pay much attention, knowing that anything he might have wanted to hear would be in a report that was already on his desk. He didn’t like reports much, they didn’t tell him anything. He had to see things with his own two eyes, keep the images burned in his retinas and turn them there until they told him something. His eyes stayed on the body, scanning every inch, every muscle, every cut, and before he had time to realize it, he was reaching a conclusion he should have reached as soon as he had seen the state of the body.

“Hey, doc,” he said then, his eyes going up towards the thin, small man that was Doctor Logan. The Doctor looked at him with something akin to a glare, but Adam just smiled sheepishly, his expression the face of innocence. “Was her heart ripped out?” he asked, looking at the threads that kept the body sewed together. Man, it was plain nasty.

“Actually, it was. But how did you know?”

Adam nodded, hid his hands inside his pockets. “Just a hunch.”

After they were done with the forensic, they got in the car, where Adam drove under Anoop’s directions. Still, he almost passed half of the streets the man pointed at, focused as he was on his own ideas. It had been a long time since he had seen a werewolf, and damn if Adam wasn’t feeling that old rush inside his guts, the one that was telling him to go home and get some silver bullets out. His past as a hunter was something that he continuously tried to forget, but his instincts always kicked in. Any case, there was no point in looking for this thing until later that night. He didn’t know who it was yet, anyway.

Adam dared one look at Anoop when he noticed him shifting in his seat, looking at the window so all Adam could see of his face was a shadowy profile. Anoop hadn’t said a thing, not this time, but Adam knew that he suspected him of not being exactly what he claimed to be: a normal boy raised by a loving family whose only wish had been to fight in the name of the law. What Anoop thought exactly? Well, Adam couldn’t know, but he was sure that ‘Noop’s smart eyes could read in between the lines of Adam’s lies.

A few minutes later, while they were trapped in the city traffic, Anoop turned towards him again. There was a frown between his eyebrows as he regarded Adam. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

“No, never.” Adam was quick to answer, knowing the question would come up eventually. He smiled, trying for charming even when he knew he had no effect whatsoever on Anoop.

Anoop answered with a non-committal sound and went back to staring out the window. Adam eyed him carefully. It wasn’t the first time they ran into something supernatural, and even if Adam trusted the man as much as he could allow himself to, he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him the truth about his past. First rule of the family: do what you do, shut up about it. Adam saw no point in dragging Anoop into something like that, much less now that Adam didn’t hunt anymore. In his experience, everyone who got involved in that world ended up jaded, and all he wanted for Anoop was for him to be a good cop and enjoy his life with Megan and Matt.

It was almost noon when they reached their destination. Adam parked the car with a swift move, turning off the radio and then stepping out of the car. As they walked towards Mrs. Browne’s house, Adam spied the neighborhood. It was a nice place, all big houses and white picket fences, and Adam could imagine the ad campaign: _A place for your kids to grow up! Large backyards, perfect for pets and barbecues!_ It all made Adam a little sick, but then again, he couldn’t fool himself: even when he had dreamed of a normal life, something like this had never been part of it. A big stage, cool clothing and a nice boyfriend to come home to, maybe, but certainly not white picket fences.

Mrs. Browne’s house was a nice example of what was easy to find in a neighborhood such as the one they were in. It was so perfect that it sickened Adam, made him wonder about how parched were the lives of the people living in a place such as this, just how many open wounds a pretty house like this hid. It was the kind of place that homed people who would turn his back on him the second the saw him wearing a bit of eyeliner, the kind of people who would make their children lie just to keep up the perfect family image. Definitely not the place of his dreams.

Adam’s eyes scanned the place, bright orbs sending photographs to his brain, that he would later recall and stash somewhere in his head. There was nothing remarkably original inside the house, and now that Adam knew exactly what had killed Anna Browne, there was nothing that could inspire his interest in the place.

Mrs. Browne broke down the moment they entered the living room, even before she could play the nice housewife and offer them something to drink. Adam fought the instinct that asked him to roll his eyes. Some of the times Kris had called him an insensitive bastard, he had been right… And it wasn’t that Adam didn’t care, just that he couldn’t handle women crying, much less when he needed to get some information out of them. He cringed internally, wondering when he had become such a heartless person. He used to care, or at least he used to try to care, but bitterness seemed to be consuming him more and more.

Anoop touched his elbow, squeezed. It was the usual way he had of obtaining Adam’s attention. They walked a couple of steps away from the crying woman and Anoop signaled upstairs with his eyes, looking then back at Adam.

“Why don’t you go talk to the girl, Adam? I’ll stay here.”

Adam grinned, nodding. At least Anoop knew how terrible Adam was with these kinds of things. Then again, women felt way more comfortable talking to Anoop’s kind brown eyes than to someone that looked as different as Adam did. It’s not that Adam didn’t try, toning the make-up down to just foundation and wearing casual but regular clothes, but he guessed something about him screamed _I like glitter and leather, so sue me_. And not that he couldn’t charm the ladies, but sometimes he just didn’t feel like trying.

Anna had a little sister called Kathleen, she was fifteen years old, and she probably knew more about Anna’s life than her mom did. Adam climbed the stairs, keeping his hands inside his pockets and thinking that the girl probably knew if her sister was hanging with someone strange, or maybe if she had some sort of diary that could lead him in the right direction. It was a fact that little sisters and friends often knew a lot more about a person than parents did.

A few minutes later, Adam found himself sitting on a way too small bed (seriously, who fit in that thing?) and surrounded by more dolls than he ever wanted to see in his life. Dolls were creepy, all right. Kathleen was a sweet girl, and she was in that age in which a simple quirked smile from Adam made her blush, which is not to say that she gave any information easily. She would squeal and giggle, but whenever she was approached about the subject of her sister she would frown and turn a tensed jaw in Adam’s direction. It was as if she could turn from a happy teenager to an angry, scarred grown up woman in no time, and Adam felt sad thinking that what had happened to her sister would change Kathleen forever.

Still, he insisted and insisted, and despite Kathleen’s protectiveness towards her sister’s memories, Adam managed to extract the tale of a dangerous looking guy that Anna had been dating from her. Mysterious and attractive, with a weird glint in his eye that Anna always said made him sexy. Kathleen told him that his name was Daniel, and Adam knew he had found his werewolf.

***

Back at the station, Adam sat grumpily behind his desk and examined the picture that Kathleen had given him. There was that Daniel guy, his arm around Anna’s shoulder. They were smiling. Adam was right: Anna had been an attractive woman, not extremely pretty but sweet-looking.

He couldn’t be sure that Daniel was his guy, of course, but with werewolves the smallest of clues was always something. Luckily enough, they seemed to almost always go for people that were a part of their lives, rather than just random people, so he had a good chance here. He knew where his hunting grounds were, and he had a suspect; he guessed it was enough to go on. He would be the one hunting tonight.

An angry Anoop dropping a folder on his desk brought him out of his reverie. Adam jumped a little, leaving the cup of coffee he had been drinking next to Anna’s report and pushing Daniel’s picture inside his jacket’s pocket. Anoop was fuming, though, and not paying much attention to his antics.

“What’s up, ‘Noop?” he asked, trying for casual and coming as nervous. Anger was a rare emotion in Anoop, and quite frankly, it scared Adam a little. Maybe it was because the calmed ones always exploded more outrageously than the quick-tempered ones, or maybe just because the angered look didn’t fit Anoop’s soft features at all.

“Something wrong?” Adam prodded when he got no answer.

Anoop turned in his direction, pressing both hands to his desk and sighing. “Forget about the case, man, the feds are taking over.”

“The FBI?” Adam raised one eyebrow, sitting back on his chair.

Anoop just nodded, still fuming and possibly mulling the situation over in his head. Adam was sure Anoop had fought with the Captain about this, and that that was why he was so angry. For all her endearing comments, Kara could be a bitch when she wanted to, and Anoop and she had always been good at butting heads.

Any case, there was no way of turning this around now. If Adam had learned something during his years in the force, it was that ranking was fundamental: if the feds wanted the case, then there was nothing they could do. In any other situation, he would be fuming right next to Anoop, and maybe even presenting his own complaints to Kara, but not this time. Once Adam had finished with the werewolf, there would be nothing for the feds to find. It even played in his advantage, not having to keep Anoop’s smart nose out of his business.

“Hey, calm down, would you?” he said finally, surging forward and pressing his elbows to the desk. Anoop was leaning back on it, staring at the wall in front of Adam’s cubicle, where a big round clock ticked away. Adam kept talking, though, knowing by past experience that Anoop was listening. “Last time this happened the Cap was so angry that she threatened to have you suspended, so just–”

“What, Adam? Just what?”

“Chill out, man. Suck it up.” Adam shrugged. “We have worse problems.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

Adam shook his head, half closing his eyes in a resigned gesture. “Your fashion, _of course_. Lime-green sweaters? Really, honey?”

Almost immediately, Anoop’s shoulders were shaking with uncontained laughter, and Adam scored himself a mental point. From anger to laughter in 0.1 seconds; he was good.

“You fucker,” replied Anoop finally, shoving at him. “Megs says I look sexy.”

“Yes, well, the girl’s in love, can’t blame her for her lack of judgment.”

Anoop fake-glared at him steadily while putting an offended hand on his chest, and then he was chuckling. Adam joined in the laughter, and soon enough the anger seemed to fade completely away from Anoop’s demeanor. He would still feel raw, and Adam knew it, but at least the initial reckless rage was gone.

“Hey, I’m going to get a drink with the guys later, wanna come?” Adam asked after a while.

Anoop shook his head. “Not tonight. I have to get home early at least one day a week. But hey, how does Saturday sound for a boring lunch with your partner? Megan misses you, and she keeps nagging me for details about your diet.”

Adam rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the same time. “She just wants to fatten me up. Tell her to keep the calories to a minimum.”

“Will do."

***

Later that night, Adam sat at a booth in their usual pub surrounded by who he guessed could be called _the guys_. It was just like in the movies, all the big, macho guys from the department getting together to have a few (or too many) beers while bitching about the feds and their superiors, repeating over and over what they’d do if they wouldn’t be risking their jobs. In the midst of all that testosterone, there was Tommy, who liked to look at Adam from behind his beer and roll his eyes at all the big egos in the room.

Adam didn’t join the boys as much as they’d like, which meant that they always gave him a weird look, something that reminded him that he wasn’t a part of the gang, one of them. He didn’t really care, not when he liked sparkly stuff and pretty boys, and all these guys seemed to enjoy was beer and pool. He had nothing against them, but it was nearly impossible for them to find a common ground. He smirked when Gokey gave him a look from above his beer, clearly stating his displeasure with Adam’s presence; Adam would have been worried otherwise, since all their dynamic was based on mutual displeasure.

He took the last swig of his drink (something fruity and bright, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t ask for it just to piss the beer-drinking gang). Then, he removed his eyes from Gokey’s and looked to his right, giving Tommy a small apologetic smile right before he stood up.

“I have to go, boys,” he said, smirk playing on his lips while he threw some money on the table. No one answered. In fact, they merely looked up. Adam shrugged, grabbed his jacket and pulled it on while he walked towards the door, nodding slightly towards Ed, the owner. He was almost outside when Tommy’s voice, along with a tiny hand on his shoulder, stopped him:

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, teeth worrying his lower lip.

Adam shrugged again, smiling down at him. Tommy was not an actual cop, but a techie, which meant that he wasn’t looked down upon for his lack of formal clothes or the way he styled his hair. And thank the Lord, because Adam loved his stupid haircut that almost always covered his pretty eyes. Adam liked Tommy, with his pretty face and his no bull-shit attitude. He liked that he was a techie that played guitar, he liked his nail-polish and his eye make-up, just as much as he liked his insistence that he was straight. The first time they had shared a bed, Tommy had claimed that Adam had sex magic powers, and that his sexuality hadn’t even stood a chance in his presence.

Adam leaned down, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving one hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, got things to do.”

“Things? Or boys?”

Adam laughed, an open if low sound. Tommy was straightforward, but Adam had a hard time not finding him adorable when he was looking at him so sternly and with his hands on his hips.

Tommy had had a disastrous affair once, and it seemed that since then he had resigned himself to half-assed relationships and one-night stands. Given Adam’s own destroyed heart, they had chosen to share their loneliness occasionally. They went out clubbing, they drank and they fucked, and that was all there was to it, and as far as Adam was concerned, it was one of the most honest relationships he’d ever had. Not that he didn’t enjoy the random bar hook-ups, but when it came down to it, he was much more comfortable with Tommy’s easy banter and calloused hands.

“You know you’re the only one, babe,” Adam said after a while, smile parting his lips and hip jutting forward.

Tommy snorted, rolling his dark brown eyes. “Sure I am, Adam, sure I am… So who’s gonna take me home now, huh?”

Adam eyed the table from where some of the guys were looking at them, and tightened his hold on Tommy’s shoulder instinctively; it wasn’t that they had an exclusive thing, but Adam was protective of him.

“Gokey there looks like he might be interested,” he said, watching him grimace with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “Hey, you know that attitude of his has to be overcompensating for something, honey.”

“Ugh, don’t even.”

Adam chuckled, squeezing Tommy’s shoulder. “Maybe I could just take you home now.”

“Won’t break your plans for the night, stud?” He crossed his arms over his chest, and Adam shook his head, smiling. “Then let me get my jacket.”

Adam watched him leave, his tiny, round ass swaying all the way back to the table, where he said his goodbyes among a chorus of laments from the guys. He didn’t understand why they found Tommy’s make-up so endearing, but his own so menacing. If it was a size matter, then they had never witnessed Tommy’s mean streak.

As Tommy came back to him, he found himself thinking that maybe, in another life, he would have been the guy for him. He was a perfect match, he was pretty sure of that, but as much as he believed in fate, he was going to have to defy it if Tommy was its answer for him. He cared for Tommy, probably more that he wanted to admit to himself, but that didn’t stop him from wondering about Kris every night, and it didn’t stop him from calling him for a few strained words every month.

Once inside the warm cocoon that was Adam’s car, Tommy slapped his hand before he could put on some music, and when Adam groaned he just mumbled something about it being nice to let the guest pick the music. Tommy was some kind of musical guru, always spouting dates, album names of every period, every genre. Adam was sometimes amazed, and it didn’t hurt that Tommy’s favorites were some of Adam’s as well.

“So, what plans do you have, huh?” Tommy questioned after a while. He was staring outside, though, the night-light casting yellow shadows over his features.

Adam shrugged noncommittally. “Nothing important.”

“Sure thing, stud muffin.” Tommy looked at him for a second, one eyebrow raised while one of his hands went to remove his hair from his own face. He did that: it was one of the unconscious gestures Adam had gotten used to by now. “Thanks for the ride, though.”

“You should really get a car. I mean, there are some places with pretty good deals and nice rides and–”

“But you know I can’t afford it, Adam.” He looked at him this time, his tone whiny and his lips turned into a pout. Cute, really, the way he almost always did that to get into his pants. Not that Adam needed a lot of convincing.

They didn’t say anything more for a while, content to just ride side by side. They were comfortable enough to share silences, and Adam liked that, made him think that Tommy deserved a lot more than he actually had. He had told him about his financial situation and how half his money went home to his family, making him save every penny in order to survive. He would probably be able to handle gas expenses once he got a car, but the initial payment would be a bitch on his finances. Maybe _Adam_ could do it for him, buy him a nice, cheap car that gave him a little freedom. He had the money, and pretty much nothing and no one to spend it in. And hey, he was living the way he was because of his family, and Adam saw nothing but a kind heart in that.

By the time they reached Tommy’s building, Adam had already made a resolution. He hadn’t had the means or the time to do something nice for someone before – at least something that didn’t imply salting and burning – and the idea of knowing that he could do something so simple and yet so important for someone that he cared about brought a grin to his face. When Tommy said goodbye to him with a kiss to his cheek, Adam turned and pressed their lips together for a brief instant.

“Sure you don’t want to come in?”

Adam groaned, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Can’t, really can’t. So keep your tempting little self away from me.”

“Fine, then, some other time.”

“ _Definitely_ , yeah.”

Tommy smiled and waved goodbye, putting a little extra sway to his ass when he walked towards the door of his building. Yep, Adam’s life wasn’t so bad, after all.

***

His apartment wasn’t a terribly nice place, but it was cozy enough and packed up with stuff he had acquired over the years. There were clashing pieces of furniture and kitchen appliances that Adam would never learn how to use, but he was kind of proud of his CD collection and of the racks he had filled with books. There were posters here and there, too, of old and new idols, and an extensive movie collection that he had started by buying a copy of _Velvet Goldmine._

So now he had CDs; Bowie, The Beatles, Adam Ant, Lady Gaga… Classics and new waves, and maybe one shameful album of The Archies lost in between the collection (what? They sounded good in all their cheesy glory). The books… well, Adam had never taken the time to sit and read before but once he had, he had found out that he liked it. There were some crazy stuff in those things, and now they were scattered all around the place.

Tonight, though, as he walked inside the place, the last thing on his mind was the half-read copy of _Battle Royale_ that rested on his bedside table. He walked into the room and went to his closet, where he kept his weapons stashed. He only carried his official gun these days, so he had to rummage through what Tommy had called an unhealthy amount of boots before he found the silver bullets and a suitable gun. It was hunting time, and Adam found himself surprisingly excited.

The ride towards the place where Anna’s body had been found, and what Adam assumed were the werewolf’s hunting grounds, felt short and rushed. Adam listened to some Goldfrapp, singing loudly and trying to calm his nerves. Werewolves were strong and unpredictable, and Adam hadn’t done the confident monster hunter thing in a long while.

When the wheels screeched to a stop, he was bustling with contained energy, much like a vain little kid with a new cool jacket. He was surprised to find himself thinking that he missed it. The rush and the chase, the heat and the power, and the idea that the world would be rid of one nasty little fucker by the time he got the job finished.

As it turned out, there wasn’t much of that.

Adam had been cruising the streets for about half an hour when he heard a noise: something akin to a growl. As he run, gun pressed tightly inside his fist and blood pumping fast inside his veins, he could hear trashing, moaning, maybe kicking. If the thing killed or bit someone before he got there… And then, he heard the shot. He stopped in his tracks, dumfounded for a second. Then, he was back to running. Adrenaline had kicked in, and Adam was now being lead by pure instinct, a primitive reaction that he had learned back in the days, when he was starting to hunt. It came now every time, even when he wasn’t behind a supernatural creature but behind a human crazy enough to kill another one; it was exhilarating, liberating and brutal. There was nothing but the hunt right then, and the thought made Adam run even faster.

Finally, he slowed down when he came to a barely illuminated street where a man laid on the ground, gurgling sounds coming from his bloody throat. Adam caught sight of a figure running away, his steps echoing in the empty street as he jumped over a garbage bin. The man on the ground gurgled again, one hand coming up and reaching towards the sky; Adam hesitated for a second, his eyes on the empty street where the third figure had been seconds before, but he finally ran towards the man who fought for his life. Adam crouched, ready to examine a nasty bite. Instead, he saw that the blood was coming from what was clearly a bullet wound. He stared, dumbfounded, and right before the man died in front of him, Adam realized that he was Daniel, Anna’s boyfriend, the werewolf.

So, it looked like someone had stolen his hunt.


	2. Interlude I (Adam)

Adam doesn’t remember not knowing about monsters. He doesn’t remember being afraid of the old urban legends his classmates feared so, because what he does remember is being terrified by the true stories. Vampires, ghouls, ghosts, and on and on the list goes… He always knew, because dad was a hunter, and he made sure his family was aware of what was lurking in the dark.

Unlike Neil, who had been ready to go out hunting since he was old enough to stand, Adam had never liked the idea. He got the necessity of it, the whole saving people, getting rid of the unnatural creatures that plagued the world. Maybe he was selfish, maybe not good enough to dedicate his life to some holy goal, or maybe his head associated hunting with sports, which had never been his strong suit. Whatever it was, what Adam wanted was the light of a stage, the fantasies of music.

Dad never pushed it, letting him peruse his theatre career, letting him turn into the weird fag who liked musicals, and letting him grown into it, fight the crowds of haters and begin the road of becoming his own person. He started taking Neil on small hunts when he was old enough, but he never missed one of Adam’s plays.

Life was easy most of the time. Adam fought bullies and closed-mindedness, but he didn’t fight demons or wendigos. Life was good.

And then, tragedy stroke. To the date, Adam doesn’t know what did it. All he knows is that one day he had a loving family, and the next day he had nothing but himself, an orphan at the age of fifteen, lost in a world full of monsters that he had always been too coward to fight. A month after the death of his family, he escaped his grandparent’s in his dad’s car, the one that had all his weapons stashed in the trunk.

Three years later he had given up every dream of bright stages, and all he had to prove that he was alive was a nice set of scars. There was the one on his back from that shifter in Illinois, the one on his knees from the ghost in San Francisco, the one on his stomach that nearly touched his navel from that creepy Frankenstein-like guy who had wanted his liver in Kansas. He had also gotten himself a nasty drinking habit, which he only supported thanks to his fake ID’s and credit card scams. Not bad for a kid, he guessed.

He met Brad on his nineteenth birthday, when he was well on his way of self-destruction. Brad was of the opinion that fashion and hunting were not exclusive, and with the right kind of nudging, he brought glitter back into Adam’s life. He made sure Adam changed his hair color (strawberry blond, just isn’t fitting for the whole hunting in the dark thing, sweetie), learnt how to put on eyeliner, and remembered what it was like to actually enjoy life. They hunted, sure they did, but they also went to crazy clubs, drank fruity drinks and laughed as if life was worth living. For two months they did the crazy sex thing, and when that brought nothing but tears and heartbreak, they settled for epic friendship.

Two years later, he met Kris Allen. It was not one of those love at first sight kind of things, but with time, with random encounters that didn’t feel random at all, and with Kris’s twang sweet like honey on his ear, Adam fell in love. It seemed like no matter how much time passed, how dangerous the hunts turned, how much they refused to just travel together (a fact that made Brad roll his eyes continuously) Kris Allen and Adam Lambert kept meeting in the middle.

Three years later, Brad died. It was stupid, fast and unavoidable, and it left Adam broken inside, quiet and desperate, unable to even scream away the pain inside his chest. He searched Kris, and lay on his bed for two weeks. After the biggest fight in the history of Kris and Adam, Adam pulled some strings, got himself a job as a cop and abandoned hunting – and Kris – for good. After all, there was only so much heartbreak one person could take.


	3. Kris

The first thing that Kris saw when he stepped inside the bar was a ball of fire flying his way. Not two seconds later, he was being tightly embraced by Allison’s arms, his vision completely blurred by her blue-pink hair.  
  
“Kris!” she screamed right in his ear, voice as excited as her arms were tight.  
  
“Ugh, Alli, I need breathing space here,” he complained, even as his arms went around her middle, holding her against his chest.  
  
“It’s not my fault that you never show your face around here anymore, man. My hug has to make up for the past four months, so suck it up.”  
  
Kris laughed in her ear, delighted and feeling lighter than he had in days. Stopping by Lil’s bar hadn’t actually been on the plans, but since it was on his way, he had seen nothing wrong with seeing a couple of familiar faces. Now, he could barely believe just how much he had missed Allison and the familiarity of her arms.  
  
A while later, once Allison had decided that he was properly hugged, he let go of him. Kris kept his hands on her shoulders, just so he could take a proper look at her smiling face.  
  
“Allison, we’re ready for you!” A voice bellowed from somewhere in the back. Kris recognized the tone as Lil’s, powerful and seemingly angry, but in reality nothing more than motherly.  
  
“Kris’s here!” Allison screamed for an answer.  
  
Almost immediately Lil came out of the back, dressed in a bright yellow dress that didn’t even start to match the crowd of the bar. Kris himself was doing a better job at fitting in, clad in jeans and a plaid shirt. But then again, Kris didn’t own the bar, and also, he didn’t seem to have much of a fashion sense.  
  
Lil gave him a soft hug, far less fiery than Allison’s had been, but tender nonetheless. Lil had always felt something akin to motherly affection for him, no matter that they were about the same age, or that Kris insisted that he could take care of himself.  
  
“Well, get yourself ready while I make Kris here something to eat,” Lil said, sending Allison on her way to the small stage to the left of the barstool.  
  
Kris groaned almost inaudibly, grasping Lil’s offered hand and letting himself be dragged towards a booth. “I know you don’t believe me, but I actually eat properly.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Lil countered. “Now sit down, enjoy the show, and let me do what my maternal instincts tell me to do.”  
  
At that, all Kris could do was kiss Lil’s cheek and sit down in his booth while he watched her go back into the kitchen. Lil was round and tiny, and her face reflected more years than she had, but she still looked strong and vivacious. Kris had first met her when the bar had barely started its business, right after Lil threatened his husband with who knows what if he didn’t stop what she had dubbed _that weird hunting business._ She was a mother of three, which have been a good enough reason for his husband to settle into a more normal life. Despite that, he had created what could almost be called a hunting central, a place all hunters knew, where they could come and go, find contacts, speak more or less freely and even rest their worst wounds.  
  
By the time he put his eyes on the small stage, Allison had already set herself in the middle of it, and was fighting the mic stand to get the proper height. That was another one of the things Lil had insisted on: people need music in their lives. Surprisingly enough, a lot of people who risked their lives hunting evil creatures had also a knack for music. Kris though of his guitar, properly hidden inside the trunk of his car, somewhere in between the knives and the guns. It wasn’t going to make him a rock star, and the few places that paid him for his singing didn’t help much, but it was a good way of fighting the loneliness of the road. Adam had loved his playing, had always insisted on _just one more, honey._  
  
Kris shook his head and drummed his fingers against the barstool; nothing good ever came from mourning the past.  
  
“Hello!” Allison said suddenly on the microphone. “Now, this part of the show I’m dedicating to my darling friend Kriiiis. Kris, say hi.”  
  
Kris did as he was told, waving towards Allison and giving her a smile that only she could put on his face these days. Then, she started singing. And Christ, but it never ceased to amaze him just how good she was. He had always hoped that Allison was smart enough to escape this life and find herself a place in the music business; big or small, it would be better than singing to the tired, broken people that were her usual crowd in the bar.  
  
She was… well, she was something special, with her crazy hair and the clothes that Kris couldn’t even begin to think where she got from. Kris always loved coming to see her, if only because she never failed to make him feel a little bit elated. She had never told him her story, and he had never pushed the subject, so he didn’t exactly know why she was under Lil’s care or where her family was. Any case, she called him _big brother_ and Kris had considered her family from the moment he had set his eyes upon her.   
  
She finished her set half an hour later, and by that time, Kris had already been forced to eat under the threat of being spoon-fed. It felt good, though, to have that kind of family treatment.  
  
“So, where are you headed?” Allison asked, stealing one of the fries she had ordered for him. They had already done the catching up thing, not that there was a lot to tell on either side.  
  
“Nowhere in particular,” he answered, pointedly ignoring Allison’s skeptical look. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her about the case itself, he just didn’t want to mention too many details of this particular travel.  
  
He had seen the papers announcing the death of a prostitute just a month ago. Her heart had been ripped out, and despite the bestiality of the murder, there hadn’t been a thorough investigation on it given the woman’s choice of life. As much as that single fact had infuriated Kris, all he had been able to do had been waiting for the next moon, the next time to attack. So he had, and now he was on his way to find the possible werewolf behind the crime. He had only gone against one of those once before, and he had had Brad and Adam on his back, but he could hardly give Adam a call now, two years after their last meeting, to see if maybe he was interested in coming back to the job.  
  
“Come on, Kris, where are you going?” Allison repeated, insistent as ever.  
  
Kris took a sip of his beer, and mumbled a name, almost expecting her not to catch it.  
  
“Oh, great! You’ll see Adam, then!” she exclaimed, her eyes suddenly brighter than Kris had seen them all night. Allison’s and Adam’s thing had been, after all, love at first sight, so it didn’t surprise him. What surprised him, though, was the sudden raw feeling of pain somewhere in his stomach. God, he hated how much he missed him.  
  
“You tell him,” Allison continued, “that he’s nothing but a big meanie, and that I refuse to talk to him if he ever shows his face around here again. I mean, man, how hard is a phone call every, say–”  
  
“Alli, Alli! I don’t think I’ll be seeing Adam.”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
Kris shrugged, expecting that to be enough on an explanation for her. He didn’t know if it was, but something apparently clicked inside Allison’s head, because all she did was sigh and reach out to grasp his right hand. She tapped his thumbnail, the one that had a streak of almost faded black nail polish across it.  
  
“Look, Kris, you can deny it to yourself as much as you want, but don’t try to convince me that you two don’t have the whole epic love thing going on, ok?”  
  
Kris looked down, pulling from his hand until it was free of Allison’s grasp and letting it rest on his lap, under the table, hidden from the world. So maybe he had kept painting the nail, and maybe he wondered whether Adam still kept his own unpainted one. And maybe it was silly, but Kris couldn’t be held responsible for his actions when it came to Adam.  
  
“Hey, don’t look sad! I don’t want you to look sad!” Allison exclaimed, pouting in his direction. “Hey, I know! Why don’t you play during my next set?”  
  
“Oh, no, I really don’t–”  
  
“Oh, pretty please, it will be awesome!”  
  
“… Just back up, right?”  
  
“Yey!”  
  
***  
  
Kris left Lil’s next morning in between hugs and kisses, and carrying enough food to feed him for the next month. It saddened him to get on his car and leave friendly faces behind him, but then again, it wasn’t as if his car wasn’t as close as he had to a home. The weapons on the back were the last thing that came to his mind when he thought about it, really, since there were so much better things to think about when it came to its four wheels and leather seats. It was the home of his guitar and his music, it was where he had picked Katy up for prom, where they had ridden, she so beautiful, he so proud. It was also the place where he’d gotten Adam naked more than once, hunter life not always giving them the chance of more privacy.  
  
As he rode through the empty roads, he tried not to think too much about his past, or about his near future. It was hard, when it seemed to him that he was well on his way towards meeting the most unresolved part of his life. It wasn’t as if he didn’t talk to Adam anymore, but it was always strained, almost hurtful. They were good at not telling each other anything important, if only because it helped them avoid any sort of confession or confrontation, even though they knew there was always more to say. It didn’t help that they always clung to their phones more than they should, as if even a few tense words were better than nothing.  
  
Kris shook his head, trying to focus himself on the case he had between his hands. Today’s paper was already open in his laptop, showing the picture of the latest victim of the werewolf. There was nothing about ripped hearts, but the brutality of the crime spoke for itself. Kris bit his lip, looking up at the sun and almost daring it to turn into the moon that would bring out the darkest of creatures into the world. He hated himself for not getting on time, just as much as he hated himself for every victim that he couldn’t save. It was the knack of the job, and he knew that he was no hero, but… it hurt, it always hurt.  
  
Now, all he could do was ride as fast as he could into the city, and go straight to his first destination: Anna Browne’s house.  
  
***  
  
Anna Browne’s house was literally perfect. White picket fence, pink walls inside the house, nice rooms and the whole shebang. The smell of apple pie drifted from the downstairs floor, probably from the kitchen, and Kris wondered about the kind of woman that would fall into baking right after the death of her daughter. It made him grimace, and it made him think about Katy making him promise that they would never turn into that kind of family. Even just the thought hurt.  
  
He shook those thoughts away from his head, and focused on the task at hand. A lot of hunters liked the whole dressing up as FBI or doctors or priests… or pretty much anything that would get them through the necessary doors, but Kris could not act if his life depended on it, so he chose a more stealth tactic. He was tiny, fast and silent, and he could get through any lock without being noticed. Climbing to the second floor of Anna’s house and getting in through a window hadn’t even been challenge, or at least not as much as it was staying unseen while the family was downstairs. Any other time, he would have waited for the house to be empty, but if he wanted to accomplish anything, he needed some sort of clue by tonight.  
  
Anna’s room was just like any other regular, young person should be. There was a laptop, posters, books and CDs scattered here and there, photos, and pretty much just a lot of sentimental junk that people were just not good at getting rid of. He’d been just like that, too, always keeping stuff like the first baseball he’d ever hit, the broken guitar pick Cale had given him once or the small note Katy had written him while in history class. Kris looked around, fast and silent, and after a while, he left through the same window he had entered the house with the laptop and what looked like a diary. He sincerely hoped that this werewolf had something to do with Anna, and that it was registered somewhere in there.  
  
Just as he was readying himself to get away from there, a car screeched to halt right in front of Anna’s house, not too far away from where he himself was parked. Two men stepped out of it, and Kris’s heart jumped up to his throat when he spied one of the figures. He shrunk down on his seat, begging that Adam wouldn’t turn his pretty blue eyes in his direction.  
  
“There’s a younger sister,” the second man was saying, walking even as he read from a file. “You’re good with the young girls.”  
  
Kris couldn’t see him, but he almost felt Adam’s eyes rolling, his eyebrows doing that funny thing that Kris secretly loved.  
  
“Let’s just go,” Adam replied.  
  
Kris allowed himself a thorough look once he realized both Adam and his partner where walking towards the house and had his back to him. Adam looked… thin, thinner than he should be. Then again, maybe it was the whole look: black slacks and white button down covered in a long black coat. He was also wearing a black tie and black shoes. Kris was glad to spy that there was black, maybe blue, nail polish in his nails. Adam looked subdued, sad, almost as grey as the city that surrounded them, with its dark clouds and rainy weather. Kris felt a pang of nostalgia for the glittery Adam that was always on his mind.  
  
Kris let his head fall against the wheel, let his hands tighten around it.  
  
“I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled to himself.  
  
***  
  
When the night came, Kris had already gone through Anna’s things, and had concluded that his best bet was that a certain Daniel was his werewolf. He had been dating Anna for nearly two months, and she spoke how through a few days of the past one, he had acted tired and distant, weird. Just like someone who suffered transformations at night would.  
  
Kris parked his car in a nearly empty street, got out and went for his trunk, from where he extracted the gun that he had previously loaded with silver bullets. That was all he was carrying, along with the picture of Katy that always seemed to burn inside his pocket. Sometimes he just needed a reminder of why he was doing what he was doing, and looking at Katy’s pretty eyes in that old stupid picture of their prom always seemed to help put all his insecurities in the back of his mind.  
  
He was ready to face this werewolf, and hoping that he wouldn’t change his hunting grounds. He trusted his instincts, specially knowing that as human as werewolves were during the day, they were turned into the most vicious animals once the full moon was out. And as animals, they had instincts and rules, a whole set of guidelines that made the hunter’s job just a tad easier.  
  
He walked the streets for what felt like hours but knew were only minutes, gun always at the ready and trained eyes scanning every corner of the streets. It was an ugly place, fit perhaps for a prostitute, but certainly not for a woman like Anna Browne. He wondered about what could have possibly brought her here, if it had been that boyfriend of hers or if she had just gotten lost in the streets of the city. Any case, the moon must have been just as bright last night as it was tonight, and it brought Anna the worst of luck.  
  
He was startled out of his reverie by a howling sound, and before he even knew it, he was running towards it. He had never been stellar at sports, but he’d always been decent enough, but he’d never experience with sports the kick of adrenaline that he did with hunting. It was perhaps the knowing that he was running towards what could be the end of his life, or maybe the idea that what he was doing could perhaps save one single life. Just one was good enough for Kris.  
  
A few minutes into his running, he spied the mark of claws on a wall, the angry, strong nails of a too strong animal, and he knew he was on the right track. It didn’t take him much to find the werewolf, and when he did, all he could see was a tall, imposing, animalistic figure running in between the shadows. Blood was pumping hard inside Kris’s veins, and he could barely breathe. Sound rushed into his ears, as if he was inside the ocean, floating somewhere in the immensity of dark water. He was scared. Despite it, he stopped on his tracks and screamed:  
  
“Hey!”  
  
It was almost immediate, the way the werewolf turned towards him, four big paws on the ground and angry looking eyes staring right into Kris’s. Its mouth was angry and big, and despite everything, Kris spied the traces of humanity somewhere in the carnivore incarnation before him. It made him shake, and by the time he had his gun pointed at the right place, he knew it was too late.  
  
The werewolf ran towards him, too fast for Kris to react, strong muscles throwing it towards Kris’s body with inhumanly strength. Kris fell to the ground, his shoulder cracking in a painful way that Kris barely registered when the werewolf stuck its claw on his chest. He could almost hear it, the thin fabric of his shirt giving way, and his skin and his weak human flesh, opening up easily under the assault of the more powerful creature above him. Kris screamed, pain creeping up his neck and down his arm, blood tainting his chest.  
  
It was the scent what seemed to make the werewolf stop for just a second, the odor of blood flowing into his nostrils what made him breathe in, almost as if enjoying the finest of perfumes. It gave Kris enough time to grab at the gun that was still on his hand, to lift it to the exact place and fire just one single shot straight into the animal’s neck. It howled as it fell to the ground, its strong back twisting in an impossible way right before the fur started to disappear.  
  
Kris stood up, groaning and clutching at his chest, from where the blood kept flowing. He took one step towards the almost human lying on the ground, but he stopped in his tracks when he heard the sound of heavy steps coming his way. Someone was running, fast. Before Kris could make out the figure of a man with a gun, he turned around, and ran, his hand always pressing against a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.


	4. Interlude II (Kris)

Kris has nothing but good memories of his childhood. He grew up as a normal kid in a normal, loving family. He played baseball, sucked at math, and discovered that he was fantastic guitar player. He spent a lot of hours locked up in his room, practicing and practicing, the dream of being the best guitarist in the world always present in his mind.

He had an adoring family, mom and dad and even his annoying brother. He had good friends, the kind of friends that last a lifetime, and he had Katy. They had been called the perfect couple more than once, something that Kris always thought was a projection of Katy’s blond hair and sweet smile. They were far from it; they were stupid teenagers that fell in love, who fought over nothing and made out more than was healthy. They even broke up, thanks to Kris’s idiotic sudden necessity for independence, but he was lucky enough to get her back.

They went to prom together, and to the date, dancing (or trying to) with her across the floor of the school’s gym is one of his favorite memories. They did the college thing together, even sharing a small apartment two years down the road. There was no doubt in Kris’s mind that she was going to be his wife some day, and that they were going to get their happy ever after.

And then she died.

She died a horrible death, one that left Kris dumbfounded, destroyed, scared to the point that he refused to believe it. There was crying and screaming, and in the back of his mind, the idea that someone had ripped him apart, and left him alone to bleed.

He refused to accept the cops’ answers, and so he started looking for his own. He found nothing at first, but once he did, a whole new world unveiled before him, one of monsters and scary creatures, one of all that was wrong and unnatural in the world. After crashing his fears down, he left his family, friends and perfect life behind, and set himself on the journey of his life, one of fighting that which was lurking in the dark. In his pocket, he carried a picture of Katy.

The new world he immersed himself in also brought with it the strangest set of characters he had ever met. Lonely and broken people, mostly, but also strong and determined. Some of them where crazy to the point in which Kris avoided them, and some of them had lost sight of what they were trying to do and had turned themselves into vicious murderers. And among them, Kris didn’t feel at home.

A few years down the road, he met Adam. Adam, who was broken and a little crazy, and who let his partner Brad play with his hair constantly. Adam, who captivated him from second one. Kris knew it hadn’t been love at first sight, but Adam had taken his broken heart, the one Kris had thought unfixable since Katy, and he had squeezed and held on, and then he had just stayed there.

They never travelled together, both of them too stubborn to give into something that could have given them a glimmer of hope. They were both jaded, and sometimes the love they shared hurt in the most impossible way. But they always met in the middle, as if fate kept trying to tell them something.

Three years after they met, Adam showed up at Kris’s doorstep, drunk and alone, and he didn’t even have to ask. Brad wasn’t trailing along, and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to. For two weeks Adam lay on his cheap motel bed, and Kris lay with him, hands soft on his shoulders, his stomach, his face. Kris tried, he did, but Adam left him, and Kris knew that he still hadn’t found a cure for a broken heart.


	5. Kris

Kris liked Adam’s apartment. He had forgotten to mention it the last time they had met, focused as he’d been on yelling at him for running away, for being able to leave it all behind – including him – for some boring life as a detective. It had not been a good meeting. Still, at least that time Kris had been invited inside, while this time he had taken the liberty of picking the lock.

His chest wouldn’t stop bleeding, and his shoulder felt as if someone kept punching it repeatedly, stronger every time. He could almost imagine what color his skin was going to be looking tomorrow. He hadn’t intended to come see Adam, especially since hunters were really good at taking care of their own wounds. But he had lost so much blood, and he feel dizzy and sick to his stomach so much that now that he had reached the apartment, walking towards the bathroom felt almost impossible. He managed to drag himself there, though, all of his body feeling too heavy for him to carry.

When he dropped all his weight on toilet, one hand still firmly pressed to his chest, he heard the front door opening, and all of his illusions of Adam staying out all night went flying out the window. He didn’t know whether to feel grateful or annoyed, but he chose to just focus on the way his head kept trying to tell him that the room was spinning.

He saw the gun pointed at him through the corner of his eye, and almost immediately Adam’s surprised expression.

“Kris!” Adam exclaimed, lowering the gun and leaving it somewhere next to the sink. Kris couldn’t bring himself to pay enough attention.

“ _Jesus_ , Kris.”

In less than a second Adam was in front of him, prying his hand away from his chest as his bright eyes started to scan the damage. He was sweaty, as if he had been running, and his skin shone pale under the phosphorescent light of the bathroom. He had eyeliner on, and that made Kris smile, thankful that he hadn’t made himself be as grey as Kris had thought before.

“He got you really good, didn’t he?”

Kris said nothing, feeling himself almost float as Adam tried to remove his shirt without tearing the skin of his chest. It hurt, everything hurt, but Adam was right before him and he looked beautiful and welcoming and that was good enough for Kris.

“I’m bleeding all over your floor,” he managed to articulate, his voice coming croaky out of his too dry mouth. His tongue felt pasty and heavy, and his eyes were starting to close.

“Oh, sweetie.” Adam looked up then, right into his eyes, and brought a warm hand to his cheek. He gave Kris a shaky smile, and then went back to examining the wound.

Kris wanted to stay awake, he did, but he let himself close his eyes and he let darkness surround him, because Adam was there with him, big, warm and strong, and smelling like _home._

***

Next morning found Kris in between the cleanest sheets he had slept on in what felt like the past century. He was sore all over, but he didn’t feel all that bad, specially compared with the state he had been in last night. He brushed his chest with his knuckles and felt the clumsy lines of hand sewn wounds. They were clean, though, and their reddish color looked healthy and infection-free. It looked like Adam hadn’t forgotten how to take care of the ugliest kind of wounds.

Kris stood up clumsily and walked towards the bathroom, noticing the lack of dried blood on the floor. He felt almost bad for having Adam taking care of his mess, especially when he didn’t know what to expect from him. Not that Adam would have left him bleed to death, or anything. He set himself in front of the mirror and stared at his shoulder. It was almost black all over, the abused skin standing out uncomfortably on his rather pale arm. He didn’t stop to look at it too much, and instead turned on the shower. He supposed there was nothing wrong with abusing Adam’s hospitality just a bit more.

When he was finished, he put on the pair of sweats Adam had let him sleep on and walked back towards the room. On his way out towards the kitchen, he saw a duffel bag and his guitar propped against a wall, and assumed that Adam had found his car and brought a few things up. He considered changing into some of his own clothes, but the smell of coffee beckoned him towards the kitchen.

Adam was hunched over a pan, cooking what looked like scrambled eggs. There were two cups of coffee set on the counter, along with a few pieces of toast. Adam had always been good at breakfast foods.

“You’re up,” Adam said, not turning his back.

Kris nodded, almost as if Adam was looking, and walked inside the kitchen, fetching one of the cups of coffee almost immediately.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.”

Kris could almost feel the tension in the air, and he hated it. He hated what they had done to themselves, the way they had allowed outside circumstances to twist how they were with each other.

“That was you last night,” Kris said, trying to keep the conversation going. “With the werewolf.”

“Yeah.”

Kris had had his suspicions. After all, if Adam had been in charge of the case, he would have obviously figured out what was behind the crimes. He wondered if he had known about the prostitute last month.

“I figured.” Kris shrugged.

“ _God._ ” Adam looked up suddenly, his mouth twisting into a scowl while his eyes searched Kris’s. “You weren’t even going to give me a fucking call, were you?”

“I didn’t think–I just didn’t want to interfere with your life.”

“Oh, fantastic,” Adam exclaimed, his tone raising up as his hands worked to get the scrambled eggs out of the pan. “So of course picking my lock and bleeding all over my bathroom was a much better choice.”

Kris looked down, shrugged. “Things didn’t go as planned.”

Adam snorted. “No kidding.”

Adam went back to fumbling with the eggs, even eating an angry mouthful of them and washing it down with some bitter coffee. His back was to Kris yet again, and Kris took the time to spy the muscles there, even letting himself look at the naked skin right above his sweatpants. He really was thinner, but he still looked good, even a bit out of Kris’s league. His hair was the deepest of blacks, no lines of blue or purple, and the nail on his right thumb was unpainted.

“Look, Adam,” Kris started. “I just didn’t want–well, look at us, you only look at me so you can argue.”

“Excuse me then for thinking that at least I deserved a simple visit.” Adam turned towards him again, chest heaving up and down and eyes fiery. “I know things haven’t been great, trust me, but come on!”

Kris said nothing, barely shrugged.

Adam sighed, suddenly resigned. His hands were twitching, and Kris knew that he was dying to say more. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. How did you find out about the werewolf, anyway?”

“A prostitute was murdered last month. Not that your police department seemed to care too much about it.” Kris could hear the resentment in his own voice, and he hated himself for it, but now that Adam had gotten him riled up, he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“That’s not fair and you know it.” Adam advanced on him, embracing the confrontation in the same way he had avoided it not two minutes ago. He looked wild, like a predator. “I can’t know about everything that goes on.”

“You could at least try.”

“There are rules and ranks, Kristopher! You _know_ that!”

“Rules and ranks? Listen to yourself, Adam!” Kris lifted both arms in his haste to make a point, to tell Adam that he was not a creature that followed rules, but all he managed to do was force his hurt shoulder into a not so comfortable position. “Ow! Damn!”

“ _Jesus_ , that must really hurt if you’re swearing.”

Adam walked his way and soon enough, he was resting a soft hand on his shoulder. His eyes had lost its angry edge and were now softer, blue ponds of calm.

“Here, here, sit down.” Adam guided him to one of the chairs of the kitchen and almost pushed him on it. One second later, he was putting a plate of scrambled eggs right in front of him, along with his barely touched cup of coffee. “And for Christ sake’s eat some breakfast, you look famished. Really, you’re way too thin.”

“Yes, mother, something else?”

Adam snickered, smiling in his direction with almost childish glee, and Kris smiled back. In the end, no matter the fights, they were good at the laughing, too. Kris loved a happy Adam, and before he could stop himself he was grasping his forearm and pulling down so that Adam would look straight at him.

“I miss you, Adam,” he said. “I miss you _all the time._ ”

Adam didn’t look surprised. How could he, when what was between them had never been the question here? His features softened even more, and Kris was happy to see him so suddenly free, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Adam leaned down and kissed him. He just pressed his lips there, soft but sure, and when Kris stood up to be at his level, Adam cupped his cheeks with both his hands and pressed himself completely against him, from head to toe. Kris brought his arms around Adam’s waist, careful of his injuries but not caring all that much now that Adam was kissing him within an inch of his life, tongue and lips invading Kris’s senses until he could barely think.

Kris had always loved kissing Adam, the intensity of it, the precision and the dedication that made him feel like he was the only person in the world. Now, after so long without touching each other, Kris felt electrified just with the way Adam was licking his lower lip before bringing his tongue inside his mouth to fight against Kris’s own.

Kris yelped when Adam grasped his ass with both hands to drop him on top of the table, but he recovered quickly enough, throwing his thighs around Adam’s waist and pulling him in. It had been way too long since they had done this, and Kris whined his complaint when Adam broke away from the kiss and rested his forehead on Kris’s shoulder. Still, Kris reached up with his good arm and buried a hand in between Adam’s locks.

“You scared me so fucking much last night, Kristopher,” Adam whispered against his chest as his fingers skimmed along the damaged skin on his chest.

Kris barely shook his head, pressing a kiss to the top of Adam’s. That brought Adam’s mouth back to his own, and they kissed and kissed, as if to make up for the time they had spent apart. Kris let his hands wander down Adam’s back, enjoying his sweaty, naked skin, and let Adam manhandle him as much as liked, almost propping his leg on his shoulder in his haste to touch him all over.

“Ok, that’s it, we’re going to bed.”

Kris wriggled a little, kissing at Adam’s neck now that his mouth was too far away. “ _Or_ , we could just stay here.”

Adam lifted one eyebrow at him, and Kris chuckled a little. They were plastered against each other, hands lost all over and cocks pressing heavy against each other. Somehow the idea of breaking apart to walk all the way to the bedroom seemed like too much work.

“You’re in no state for kitchen sex,” Adam stated finally, pulling back at the same time he pressed his hands to Kris’s hips and made him get down from the table.

Kris groaned his disappointment, and before Adam could drag him any further, he pushed him against the closest wall and pressed their lips together yet again. He swallowed Adam’s moan when he pushed one leg in between his, his thigh perfect and muscled against Adam’s groin. Kris dragged his nails down Adam’s sides, feeling the soft if scarred skin before settling himself in Adam’s wiggling hips. Adam was rolling them, pressing himself softly against Kris, pushing their cocks together yet again, and Kris couldn’t remember feeling this good in a very long time.

Adam moved his hands to Kris’s ass, cupping both cheeks and pulling him up at the same time he pushed down with his mouth, forcing Kris to arch his back beautifully. In one swift movement Adam had their position switched and he was pushing Kris against the wall. He moved back just a second, and let his lips trail down Kris’s chest, caressing a nipple almost as if by accident as he got down on his knees.

“Fine then, but stay up there and try not to hurt yourself,” Adam said, leaning his chin on Kris’s stomach and smiling up. “I did enough blood cleaning last night.”

Kris snorted, even as he buried his hand in Adam’s hair. “Nice to know you’re worried.”

Adam stuck his tongue out at him, and before Kris could get distracted by Adam’s fingers pulling at his sweat pants, he couldn’t help but think how happy he looked, how light he sounded. He couldn’t help thinking how happy he himself was.

Adam’s hands felt warm wherever they touched Kris, but his mouth was even warmer when he pressed a kiss to his now naked thighs. He mouthed at the skin there, teasing his opening with sweaty, talented fingers and drawing quiet moans from him. Kris lifted his leg when Adam guided it on top of his shoulder, and found himself pouting at the feeling of Adam’s mouth right next to his cock, kissing the skin of his groin without actually touching him. Paired with the constant teasing of two of his fingers, it was almost torture.

Kris let himself be manhandled one more time, though, and just went with the flow when Adam dropped his legs and made him turn around. He plastered himself against the cold wall and bit his lip when Adam’s tongue went right for his opening, which was already more than sensitized thanks to Adam’s fingers. Adam’s free hand was making a perfect job of caressing up and down his spine, fingers massaging in a barely there touch.

“Adam, Adam,” Kris mouthed against the wall. “Fuck me here already or take me to bed, but do it now.”

“Pushy,” Adam said laughing, even as he climbed up Kris’s body, pressing his mouth to every piece skin he could reach on his way.

Kris turned around inside his arms, and almost immediately squeezed Adam’s cock still inside his sweat pants, and heard him groan with something akin to victory.

“Kris,” Adam whined.

He sounded broken and open, and Kris could do nothing but kiss him yet again, wrap himself around those plump devilish lips of his. Adam kissed back, moaning into his mouth when Kris pushed his hands under Adam’s pants to squeeze softly the skin of his ass.

They stumbled their way towards the bedroom, and once Adam had his back on the mattress, his limbs sprawled beautifully on the bed, Kris made quick work of his sweat pants and plastered himself all over Adam, feeling every inch of skin that there was to feel. They made quick work of the condom, and then Kris straddled Adam’s hips and pushed Adam’s cock inside him, keeping one hand on Adam’s chest and dictating his own rhythm. Once Adam was fully sheathed inside, he threw his head back and thrust up, holding onto Kris’s hips for dear life.

Once they had something akin to a rhythm, Adam sat up, holding onto the small of Kris’s back but letting their chests touch as they fucked. Kris knew that it made the movement more uncomfortable, but he was also grateful for the closeness of the position. He could feel Adam’s breath right next to his mouth, feel the up and down movement of his chest, and spy his eyes half-closing in pleasure. It was stupidly gorgeous.

After a while, Adam moved them with a groan, pushing Kris’s back against the mattress and moving faster between his legs. Kris’s head hanged of the bed, and his neck resented the movement, but the rest of him had nothing to complain about. He hugged Adam’s waist with one leg while the other one was hooked over Adam’s shoulder, making Adam lie all the way on top of him. Kris also grabbed one of Adam’s ass cheeks, as if afraid he was going to go somewhere if he didn’t hold on.

“Adam, _God_ , don’t _ever_ stop.”

Adam laughed above him, ragged and breathless. “I’ll have to stop _eventually._ ”

Kris smiled at Adam’s laugh, and brought his head up to search for Adam’s lips. They kissed, messy and uncomfortable but fantastic, and in the middle of it, Kris felt the pool of heat that had been forming at the pit of his stomach fire up and go through all his body. He groaned his release, biting softly at Adam’s bottom lip as the aftershocks started to leave him boneless.

It didn’t take Adam long to come too, his eyes fixated on Kris’s even as his lips tightened on Kris’s own. He fell all the way forward, pressing his forehead to Kris’s chest and panting softly against the sweaty skin there.

“Adam.”

“Yeah?”

“My head is hanging off the bed.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.”

They laughed as they tried to find a decent, comfortable position on the bed, Kris groaning occasionally at the strain on this shoulder and chest. He sat against the headboard and Adam rested his head on his lap, eyes towards him and Kris’s hand on his hair.

***

The afternoon found them comfortably settled on the bed, hands all over each other as if they couldn’t get enough. There had been no more fighting, and Kris knew that there was really no point in it. He had once accused Adam of running away, but what Adam had done had been forge himself a new life away from the pain that hunting always brought with it.

“You look thoughtful,” Adam said. He was back on Kris’s lap, but his hand had reached up to caress Kris’s cheek softly.

“I just… did you see him? The werewolf? After he…?”

“Yeah, I did, honey.” Adam let his hand go down, his knuckles caressing his chest and one of his nipples absentmindedly. “I know it always get to you how they don’t know what’s going on.”

“Kinda makes you wonder who the real monster is.”

Adam sat up just so he could look straighter into Kris’s eyes. “You’re too good for your own good, Kristopher.”

“Yeah, well–”

“But I have just the thing!” Adam exclaimed suddenly, bringing both his hands to cup Kris’s cheeks. “I’m taking you to dinner with my friends. It’s going to be an explosion of ugly sweaters, plaid and fedoras. _Amazing._ ”

Kris laughed delighted, and kissed his way down Adam’s chest while he made a phone call to announce one more guest. Hearing the easy tone on Adam’s voice only helped Kris remember how he was invading Adam’s life for a minute, how he was nothing but a break in what was now Adam’s regular life (occasional werewolves aside).

“Hey, is everything ok?” Adam asked, and Kris cursed how much of an open book he was to him.

“I just… Adam I’m not _staying_ and–”

Adam shushed him immediately, even going as far as pressing the palm of his hand against Kris’s mouth.

“Please darling, don’t break my bubble just yet.” Adam surged forward, pressed his lips tight and hard against Kris’s, and when he broke apart, he left one teasingly soft hand on the back of his neck. “Let me take you out tonight, and then we’ll see about tomorrow, ok?”

Kris just nodded, and then kissed Adam’s pouty lips once again.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Feels better.”

Adam offered him a smile, and almost immediately he knew what he was going to ask for.

“Play me something? Something pretty.”

And since Kris couldn’t for the life of him resist Adam, he did.

***

Adam’s friends were something, all right. He recognized Anoop as soon as Adam introduced them, remembering him as the man that had stepped out of Adam’s car back at Anna Browne’s house. His partner, then. Anoop looked smart and was extremely polite; he was also the less crazy person in the weird threesome that cohabited in that house. Megan was a gorgeous girl with a knack for imitating birds, and Matt was a piano-playing fedora-wearing crazy joker. Kris was almost instantly in love with all of them.

The dinner was simple and the conversation was easy. Adam looked… at ease, relaxed in what was obviously a regular occasion. He laughed and joked, and he looked like he belonged in that little apartment, with friends that matched his level of craziness. It made Kris’s chest ache a little, and it must have shown in his face, because when he offered to give a hand in the kitchen, he found himself cornered by Megan.

“So, how do you know Adam?” she asked. It could have been a perfectly innocent question, but it was obvious that Adam never brought company to these dinners, and that she was strangely curious about him.

Kris tried to play the nonchalance card. “We’re old friends.”

“Really, now. ‘Cause that’s not the way you look at an old friend.”

Kris blushed furiously, and Megan laughed softly, putting a hand against his now warm cheek.

“We’re just… it’s a long story,” he settled for finally, not wanting to explain much more.

Megan nodded, leaving a stack of plates in the sink and then resting her back against the counter. “It’s always long stories with Adam.”

Kris nodded, imitating Megan’s posture and crossing his arms over his chest. Of course Adam had to keep his past hidden, either with lies or with silences. He guessed it did a lot for his mysterious image, but not too much for his trust issues.

“I love him, I can tell you that,” Kris said, shrugging and looking into her honey-colored eyes.

“I can tell.”

“That obvious, huh?”

She laughed at him, and then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re sweet, Kris.”

Kris smiled her way. “I’m just glad that he had someone to feed him properly. He’s so thin.”

“Oh my God, so true. Hey, Adam!” she screamed in the living room’s direction, walking outside of the kitchen at the same time. “Kris here thinks you’re too thin, see?”

“Oh, God, Kris,” Adam whined the moment Kris poked his head out of the kitchen. “Do not encourage her.”

“It’s true, though,” Kris countered as he sat next to Adam.

What followed was an attack on Adam’s unhealthy diet that had Kris giggling for a full minute while Adam whined and poked his stomach as a revenge for bringing this upon him. Then, just because he was nice and he wanted to help, Kris opted for a brusque change of subject.

“So, Matt, Adam tells me you play the piano.”

“Oh, yeah!” Matt exclaimed, smiling brightly. “Not that mister glam rock here ever comes to see me play or anything, but I’m totally awesome.”

Kris smiled back, chuckling when Adam stuck his tongue out at Matt. “Why don’t you play something?”

“Oh, no, no really.” Matt shook his hands before him, as if trying to avoid the embarrassing process of playing in front of an audience. After a few seconds of silence, though, he groaned. “Come on you guys, now is when you insist on hearing my amazing playing.”

Almost immediately, Megan and Adam threw themselves into an adoration rant.

“Please, Matt!”

“We love you so much!”

“You must play!”

Matt raised his hands again, this time as if calming the adoring masses. “Fine, fine, maybe one.”

Anoop rolled his eyes next to Kris. “Now he won’t stop.”

“Just for that I’m singing, too!” Matt exclaimed.

All Kris could do was laugh, and in between smiles and music, he squeezed Adam’s hand under the table and almost felt at home.

***

“Come on, I have a treat for you,” Adam announced as they walked into a pub. It was packed with leather-clad people, and Kris would have felt out of place if Adam hadn’t kept his arm around his shoulders all the time. It felt almost surreal, going out in what could almost be called a date.

They found a table and ordered their drinks (something fruity for Adam, and a soda for Kris and his painkiller filled body) and when a band started filling the stage, Adam waved enthusiastically at the pretty blond with the base. The blond waved back, looked at Kris and gave him two thumbs up. Kris blushed furiously for the second time that night.

The show was something. The band covered old rock songs, mostly of the glam and pshycodelic variety, which had Adam’s feet dancing under the table, and his hips wriggling almost unconsciously. Kris tried to focus his eyes on the show even as his hand climbed up and down Adam’s thigh unintentionally.

One hour of heavy singing later, the blond base player came their way, a bottle of water in his hands and a smile on his face. Almost immediately, Adam jumped to his feet to hug him, and Kris had to hold onto the table to stop the wave of jealousy climbing through his back.

“That was awesome!” Adam exclaimed.

The blond smiled again, but before he could say anything, Adam turned back to Kris and said:

“Tommy, Kris. Kris, Tommy.”

Tommy extended his hand and Kris shook it with his own while raking his eyes down the blond hair, the dark make-up, the leather outfit, the painted nails. Tommy seemed to be doing pretty much the same with him, and when he got to their joined hands, he tapped on the single nail that was painted among Kris’s.

“Cool nail,” he said, and gave him a pretty smile before letting go of his hand.

“Thanks,” Kris offered, bringing his hand back to his own chest and touching the nail that everyone seemed to notice. Adam had repainted it that afternoon, quiet and slowly.

“Listen, I gotta go celebrate with the band, but thanks for coming, stud.”

Adam smiled when Tommy pressed a chaste kiss against his temple. Tommy waved at both of them before disappearing into the back of the pub, and then Adam was all over him, hands at his hips, lips at his neck.

“Tommy, huh?” Kris asked, even as his own hands climbed up Adam’s back.

“Don’t you Tommy, huh me, mister,” was Adam’s only answer. And Kris guessed he didn’t have the right of being jealous, but that didn’t stop it from happening. Another part of him, the masochistic one, was half happy that Adam had someone, especially some glittery, blond, pretty boy that seemed far more suited for him than Kris was.

“Take me home, Adam.”

“Mmm, yes, sir.”

They were leaving the pub, Adam’s hand in Kris’s back pocket, when Adam’s phone started ringing. He pulled it out from his jacket and opened it with a frown between his brows.

“Something wrong, ‘Noop?” was his answer. “Oh, oh, I see. I’ll be there in a minute.” Adam hung up as fast as he had grabbed the phone, and then he looked at Kris with heavy eyes. “There’s been another victim.”

“ _Another_ werewolf?”


	6. Interlude III (Kris&Adam)

The first time Kris and Adam met, Adam had been lying on the ground, bleeding. Thankfully enough the swamp creature/evil thing/ugly monster was dead, lying right next to him after having been stabbed in the chest with a wooden stick. A stick held by none other than Kris Allen, who Adam had named Cute Boy in his head.

Kris had helped Brad drag Adam into their motel room, both of them groaning about too tall people. Then, he had taken care of the bleeding cut on Adam’s back while Brad whined about his ruined clothes and took a shower to get the smell of the swamp off. What he saw when he came out of the shower Adam couldn’t know, but the moment he found a proper excuse, he left Adam and Kris alone. He wasn’t subtle, and he made Kris blush.

Adam and Kris shared a bed for the first time that night, Adam delighted at Kris’s bold attitude when it was more than obvious that he had never been with a man. It had been almost perfect, and next morning, when they had said their goodbyes, Adam had stashed Kris’s face on his list of good memories, and had started the job of forgetting him.

And then, they met again. And again, and again. And another time after that, and they started doing it on purpose, and then they fell in love, and the rest is history.


	7. Adam

“I can’t believe it!”

Anoop looked at him like he had grown a second head, but Adam truly couldn’t believe that there were two werewolves in town and that he had left one of them escape. If only he had spent a bit more time looking yesterday, rather than just going home the minute he had felt the coast was clear. And now, here they were, police cords around the body of a young man, too much blood around him. Always too much blood.

“Calm down, man,” said Anoop, his hands inside his pockets, his look professional as ever.

The place was pretty empty, and Adam was thankful for that. It was late and the press probably hadn’t gotten the scoop yet, so at least it was just them and some more people from the department there. He thought of Kris, and of the futile fight they had had not two minutes ago. He _knew_ Kris hadn’t listened, and that he was walking the streets looking for the werewolf, fuck his injuries or the cops rounding the place. Adam got it, he did, he was itching to go with him, not just for the possibility of finding the creature, but because he couldn’t bare the idea of Kris getting hurt again.

“’Noop, I have to go.”

“What? Adam, we still have to wait for the–”

“Anoop, please, man.” Adam grabbed Anoop’s shoulders, making sure he had his undivided attention. “I really need to go. Cover for me?”

Anoop heaved a sigh. “Fine, but if the Cap finds out, you’re on your own.”

“Thanks, man.”

Going back around the street, Adam found his car and changed his official gun for one with silver bullets. His hands were sweaty, and he could already feel the blood pumping inside his veins. He was nervous, he could tell even as he walked with sure steps through the barely lit streets. Still, his instincts told him what to do, when to avoid the yellowing light reflected on the grounds, how to move through the corners. He was a hunter through and through, and there was no denying that.

He spied Kris a few streets away from where the body was resting. It was close enough that a shot would ring hard and loud, especially given the silence of the night. The neighborhood wasn’t very good, so there wasn’t a soul on sight. Kris was just standing there, his gun pointed towards something but his stance still as if he had no intention to move.

“Kris!” Adam whispered.

Kris just lifted a hand, shushing him immediately. Adam walked towards him, and then saw what Kris was looking and pointing at. The werewolf was there, still but with its eyes trained firmly on Kris. It was showing its teeth, powerful and dangerous, but it was also bleeding from one of its paws, which was probably what had it silently staring at Kris, rather than attacking.

“I think that guy hurt it before it killed him,” Kris whispered, his eyes never leaving the creature.

Adam trained his own eyes in it, analyzing its more human features. Werewolves could sometimes be recognized, and this time, with the creature so still and the weak light that filled the street, Adam had no problem distinguishing the person behind the animal.

“Fuck, Kris. It’s Anna’s sister.”

“I know,” Kris said. The hand that held the gun was trembling. “What is she, sixteen?”

“Fifteen.”

“Adam, _I can’t_.”

“We _have_ to.”

“I know, but _I can’t._ ”

Adam knew how hard it was, he understood. After all, werewolves were nothing but involuntary monsters, unaware people that turned into evil creatures with the moonlight. Still, Adam raised his gun and forced himself to take a step forward, and then another. He remembered little Kathleen, he remembered chatting her up just to get a piece of information, and remembered thinking how jaded she would be after losing her sister to a monster. He kept walking, and when he was close the werewolf started growling. Adam prayed for it to jump, just because his conscience wouldn’t hurt him so much if he killed an attacker.

It did. It jumped in the air, paws strong and heavy even when injured, and right mid-jump, Adam fired. It went straight to its chest, and it whimpered when it fell on the ground. Almost immediately, the transformation began. Adam moved back, unable to look.

“Adam…” Kris started.

“We have to go, half the department is here.”

“But, Adam–”

“Kris, come on!”

They ran away, using back streets so they wouldn’t meet the cops, Anoop leading them. They must have heard the shot, and meeting them with a gun in his hands was the last thing Adam needed right now. They got to Adam’s car, and they threw themselves inside, crouching in their seats involuntarily and looking outside for any signs of danger. There were none. Adam breathed in, and almost immediately went for the contact. He was ready to get out of there right about _yesterday._

“Adam, Adam, stop.”

“What, Kris, what?” He looked at Kris, eyes harsh and a little crazed. Kris just looked back with sympathy, reaching out for his cheek and wiping tears that Adam hadn’t even felt.

“Fuck,” Adam cursed, letting Kris curl his hands around his cheeks and drag him into a tight hug. “I hate this life, I really fucking hate it.”

“I know, _I know._ ”

All Kris could do was hug him, and Adam took all of what was offered. He clung to Kris, desperate, because the only thing that felt safe right one was this exact place right between his arms.

***

Next morning, Adam woke up with a headache and with the sound of someone’s footsteps on the apartment. He opened his eyes to see Kris fully dressed and closing his guitar case. His duffel bag too, seemed to be ready.

“You’re leaving,” Adam stated. His tone was tired, almost defeated.

Kris walked towards the bed and sat on its edge, sliding his hand over the rumpled sheets until he reached Adam’s own. He squeezed his fingers tight between his own, but refused to look into Adam’s eyes.

“I was going to ask you to come with me, you know?” Kris asked, looking forward, at the wall in front of him. “I thought I could convince you to leave your crappy life behind, but. Well, you have friends. Friends that care, and a job that you’re good at, and Tommy, and I just–I hardly see you leaving all this behind.”

Adam said nothing, squeezed Kris’s hand back.

“I can’t even yell at you anymore for choosing this.”

Adam looked down at their joined hands, felt Kris’s fingers slowly sliding away from his, and he trapped them once again, held them hostage.

“You could always stay,” he murmured.

“Not really, no.”

Adam shook his head, slid himself closer to Kris, so he could press his full hand to his lower back. “You know this is not going to bring Katy back.”

Kris tensed under his hand, muscles suddenly strained. “I know, trust me. But I always figured that if I could save just one person, then I could stop someone else from losing a loved one, from–”

“I know, I understand.”

Even as he said it, Adam could feel defeat filling him from head to toe. He brought himself even closer to Kris, and wrapped his arms around him, framing his torso and plastering himself to his back. Kris twisted his neck to look at him, its long curve exposed to Adam’s hungry eyes. Adam lifted one arm, letting his fingers trail slowly down the skin of Kris’s neck, around his Adam’s apple.

“Stay. Stay just a few more hours.”

Kris nodded, and then they lost themselves in the fantasy just a while longer.

***

The next week was like Adam remembered every other week of his regular life. A few hours at the office, a few hours outside, drinking with the guys, driving Tommy home. It was life, and it was depressing. Before Kris’s sudden appearance, he hadn’t even began to understand just how much he missed having him in his life.

For the time being, he had tried focusing himself in solving a case that didn’t need solving. Anoop and the rest of the team had found Kathleen’s body the other night, and the investigation of the Browne sisters was still a mystery to half the department. They couldn’t make heads or tails or one sister brutally killed and another one shot, much less when there was a third body in the count. Anoop suspected something, that much Adam knew, but he hadn’t asked, and he wasn’t going to. At least Adam had someone who trusted him enough not to confess his sudden disappearance followed by the death of one of the victims of the case.

Adam had never found the office so boring, his apartment so bland or his life so absolutely empty. Not even singing at the top of his lungs in the shower was doing something for him these days.

“Hey there, stud.”

Adam looked up when a stack of papers was thrown haphazardly on his desk. It was probably the stupid amount of searches Anoop had asked for, even when he knew they were going to be of no use. Couldn’t blame him for trying, though.

He looked up into Tommy’s eyes, and forced a smile for him.

“Can I get a ride home tonight?”

“You have to ask now?” Adam replied, pointing at Tommy with his pen. It was the one Allison had given him about a year ago, last time he had seen her. It wrote in green glitter.

“Well, you’ve been so touchy these past few days.”

“Touchy, huh?”

Tommy just gave him a knowing look, as if he was aware of everything that was going through Adam’s head right this instant. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“Only if you sway your ass nicely for me.”

Tommy scoffed, and hit him in the head with one of the folders he was still carrying. “You wish.”

He still swayed his ass prettily, and Adam didn’t even have the strength to muster a smile for that. He was pretty much doomed.

Two hours later, he threw an arm around Tommy’s shoulders and waved Anoop goodbye. Once they were in the car, soft, sad music playing, Adam looked at Tommy’s profile in the fading light of the night, just as he had done so many other times. He cared for him. Very much, even. But lying to himself didn’t seem to be an option anymore.

Adam stopped the car when they were in front of Tommy’s building. Tommy stopped the music, and after removing his seatbelt, he turned to look right into Adam’s eyes.

“Can I say something here?”

“Are you going to lecture me?” Adam questioned.

“Maybe a little. But you obviously need it here.” When all Adam did was shrug, Tommy nodded and continued. “So, this Kris person, he left, right?”

“I really don’t want to discuss this.”

“But I do,” Tommy countered. “He left, and you’ve been a depressed puppy for the past week, and I have no idea why the hell you’re not running behind him.”

“I have a life here. A job, friends, _you_.”

Tommy scoffed. “That was a nicely rehearsed speech right there.”

“It’s true, though,” Adam complained.

“You can screw the job, and you can visit your friends, and as for–well, don’t get me wrong stud muffin, I really care for you, but we’re not, like, _forever_.”

Adam sighed, throwing his head back before looking back at Tommy. “Look, it’s more complicated than that.”

Tommy turned an ugly scowl his way. “All I’m saying is that his right thumbnail was painted.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That yours never is.”

***

In the end, Adam found that the decision wasn’t all that hard to make. As he was pounding away at Anoop’s door, he was understanding just what Tommy had meant with his words. There were jobs, and friends, and fuck-buddies that he really cared about. Sure. And then there was Kris. Adam had lost so much in life that he barely had half a heart to offer somebody. But whatever he had, it belonged to Kris, and somehow staying away didn’t even start to feel like a valid option anymore. He’d spent years moping through life, and he needed to do something about that.  
Anoop opened the door after some more insisting pounding, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, glasses half perched on his nose.

“Adam, _God_ , impatient much? What _is_ it?”

“I came to say goodbye,” Adam said, blunt and fast. He hated goodbyes as it was, and he wanted to make this quick and painless.

“What? Did something happen?” Anoop fixed his glasses, looking up at him with worried eyes. Adam would never be grateful enough for a friend like Anoop.

“I know this must look awfully suspicious, but I’m just-well, I’m trying to change my life here. Don’t know how that’s going to go, but I have to start by leaving.”

“Do you need any help, anything that–”

“No, no!” Adam lifted both hands. “I promise. I just, here–” Adam pulled an envelope from his jacket’s pocket and gave it to Anoop. “It’s my badge and my gun.”

“Wow, you’re _really_ leaving.”

“I’ll come visit, though, tell Megs that I promise.”

“Well, it’s… I guess, good luck then,” said Anoop extending his hand towards Adam, a sad expression on his eyes.

“You want to shake hands, really?” Adam just shook his head and dragged Anoop into a big hug, making sure he squeezed him right.

With that and a wave goodbye, he left one of the people in his life behind.

***

Sometime later, he was pounding in a second door, and this time he was received by Tommy’s messy hair and half glare.

“If this is a booty-call, Lambert, I _swear_ I will–”

“No, no, I need a favor. Come on, put on a pair of shoes.”

After the right amount of begging, Tommy did as he was told. He even got inside the car with no complaints, and smiled when Adam gave him the choice of their travelling music. The ride wasn’t all that long, perhaps an hour and a half, but by the time they left the city behind Tommy asked him if this was some sort of kidnapping. Adam just laughed, but stayed quiet the rest of the way. He was nervous, and he could feel all that shaky energy going all through him.

They arrived at a bar that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. It was small and sort of beaten up, and the sign that read _Lil’s_ on top of it had lost the dot on the _i_. Tommy probably had no idea how much it felt like home.

“Please tell me we didn’t drive almost two hours to have a drink here.”

Adam turned his way, took the keys from the contact and left them dangling in between the both of them. “Here, this is for you.”

Tommy frowned, taking the offered keys and looking up at Adam. “You want me to have your keys?”

“I want you to have my car.”

“But why?”

“I guess I’m following your advice here, and since I’m leaving town and I don’t need it, and you really, _really_ do, I thought–”

Tommy cut him by throwing himself into his arms, his own thinner ones going right around Adam’s neck.

“You’re stupid, and I’m going to miss you _so much_.”

“Just promise me that you’ll stay fabulous. That office really needs it.”

***

Adam waved Tommy goodbye and then watched the car get lost into the darkness of the road. He had two duffel bags with him, and the biggest quest of his life before him. Convincing the phone company to turn Kris’s GPS had been easy enough, but now came the hard part. He heaved a sigh, and walked inside the bar with heavy steps.

He had missed Lil’s, its dark atmosphere and all the secrets it seemed to hold inside it. Most of all, he had missed Lil herself and Allison, who was on stage right now, giving herself to the song. He scanned the room and found Kris in a booth somewhere in the back playing with the last fry on his plate. He looked thin and pale, tired.

Adam sat himself in front of Kris, and almost immediately saw the eyes before him widen in surprise. Despite everything, Kris looked adorable.

“Adam!” he exclaimed, dropping the fry and staring, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I–I was kind of wondering if that offer of going with you was still standing?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I do have conditions, though!”

“Conditions?” Kris slumped back, as if expecting the worse, and Adam had to physically restrain himself from reaching out and wrapping himself around Kris.

“I’m keeping the apartment,” he started. “And we’re taking vacations occasionally. I don’t care if the world is ending, we’re still stopping to sleep in a decent bed and visit ‘Noop, and have an actual _kitchen_. Also, I will take you to a hospital if things go really bad, no whining about that. And no whining about the time I spend in the bathroom, fabulous doesn’t just _happen_ , and–”

His rant was cut short by Kris jumping from his seat and nearly mauling him in the middle of the bar. He cupped his cheeks and pulled his face forward, just so their lips could meet somewhere with the table in between them and Kris almost perching himself on it.

“Anything, Adam,” he murmured between kisses. “Just, _anything._ ”

Adam laughed, delighted, and only stopped kissing Kris when he was tackle-hugged by a too excited Allison, who almost immediately punched him on the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that about?”

“The last year of silence! And now, you are going to sing with me, mister, and do everything I want, because you so owe me.”

“I walked right into the trap, didn’t I?” he asked into Kris’s direction. Kris just laughed, and before Allison could take him away, pulled him into another kiss. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing screamed that this was their last, that they weren’t going to see each in a long time. It was slow and soft, their mouths fitting in that way they did, tongues and lips shaking with its intensity. Adam never wanted to stop kissing Kris.

Later, when he was onstage, Allison next to him, he chose a victory song, a song fit to start an adventure. He looked at Kris, knowing that they had no idea what the hell they were going to do from now on, what they would fight about, what life was going to throw their way. But they were going to be together, and that was more than Adam had ever thought life would give his broken heart. So he stood there, and right before singing, he mouthed into the microphone:

“This is to beginnings. To Kris.”


End file.
